Page 106 of Just a Little White Lie

They frown, sharing dubious scowls between them.

“Come on, you guys. Say it!”

“I belong here.” They mutter and mumble the words, and it’s impossible to believe them.

I’m this close to bailing, but I can’t.

How bad would that look?

I refuse to let them be cowards in spite of the fear pulsating off them.

“Everyone take a deep breath. Just relax. Enjoy the dancing and pretend it’s just me watching you.”

They don’t respond, instead turning like rusty robots when Mrs. Kwan brings everyone to order.

“Quiet. Settle down, please. Thank you. Welcome back to everyone. It’s great to see you all again. I hope the break was refreshing and you’ve returned ready and eager to continue learning. It’s going to be a wonderful term. And to kick things off, we have a special treat for you.” She clears her throat, sounding unconvinced that it’s a treat at all.

I roll my eyes, gritting my teeth as a sharp anger spikes through me.

“Our new dance group—the Haven Misfits—are performing their competition number. They’ll be competing for our school this week, and we want to wish them all the best. So, please give them your support as they demonstrate all their hard work from the first term.”

Polite applause follows her introduction.

“Okay. Onto the stage. Let’s go.” I clap my hands, trying to be enthusiastic, but it’s falling flat. “Energy, people. You can do it.”

Trixi glances over her shoulder as she walks away from me. Her nervous smile rips at my heart. I give her a double thumbs-up, but she just shakes her head and walks onto the stage like I’m sending her off to the guillotine.

There’s dead silence as the Misfits get into position. An awkward throat clearing and a couple snickers make my blood burn. I cross my arms, gripping my biceps and starting to wonder if my fight for this moment is the stupidest decision I’ve made yet.

And then the music starts.

I hold my breath, waiting.

Hoping.

Believing.

They kick into the moves, and I still can’t release my breath. They’re keeping time, but they’re tense, their moves coming across as sloppy rather than sharp. They’re really not feeling it, and I’m starkly aware that they’re being thrown by this judgmental crowd.

And it shows.

Trixi, in the back row, falls out of time, which throws the others, and then Maverick forgets a sequence in the middle. Dante steps up and fills the space, but I can tell by the look on his face that Maverick is totally humiliated. His nostrils flare as he dives into the next sequence. He pulls off his backflip, which gets a few feeble cheers from the crowd, but then he screws up the lift with Alexia. She lets out a little squawk but is caught by Arlo, and they fumble their way into the finishing pose.

My insides are burning, and I can’t help a cringe as the student body gives them a wooden applause. Ugh. It’s so painful.

Darting to the side, I let the Misfits run off stage, and we walk straight out of the hall, not bothering to stay for the principal’s message and teachers’ announcements.

I close the door on Helen’s awkward, “Well, that was very entertaining. Thank you, Misfits. We wish you luck.”

Yeah right!

The insincerity is killing me.

This dynamic dance crew, who I know are capable of so much, just muffed it in front of the entire school.

Guilt clings to me as I cross my arms and run to catch up with the dancers. They stalk into the arts blocks and thunder down to the dance studio. I follow them a few steps behind and walk into a huffing, writhing space of anger and humiliation.

Maverick is pacing like a caged tiger, and I steel myself against his raging emotions.

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